An experience with Peruvian healthcare

My misgivings first arose when Professor Falconí informed me that there was an ambulance coming for me. Since I had gotten quite sick that morning, I had become increasingly nervous about traveling to Lima the following day. That afternoon, I had decided that I wanted to see a doctor before braving air travel. Little did I know, however, that there is quite a scarcity of available medical professionals on Friday nights in Cusco. Professor Falconí informed me that the only clinic that would be able to see me was sending an ambulance for me. This felt wholly unnecessary, as I felt fully able-bodied enough to walk. As I wanted to see a doctor, however, the ambulance came. Soon enough, I was greeted by a doctor and nurse in the lobby of our hostel. To my surprise, the preliminary examination took place right there in the lobby. Another surprising feature was their use of cell phones during the visit. For example, the doctor used the flashlight feature on her iPhone to look at my throat. I didn't realize until that moment that I don't think I've ever seen my primary care doctor in the States use her phone during one of my appointments.

After the preliminary examination, I walked down the block to the ambulance. Thus began one of the most harrowing car rides of my life. Driving in Cusco provides plenty of excitement, but it was furthered by sirens, the jerky manual transmission, and the fact that the driver was weaving in and out of different lanes the whole time. Once we arrived at the clinic, the nausea that had been dull before leaving the hostel had become strong and uncomfortable. A clinic worker helped me into a wheelchair and brought me to my room.

The room was dimly lit, but it had a single horizontal strip of color tracing around the room. I think the pattern was meant to evoke some sort of association with the Inca aesthetic, but I wasn't sure. After being helped into my bed, a nurse administered an IV and took my blood for testing. Before leaving, she assured us that it shouldn't take longer than three hours, and that she would try and encourage them to process it even faster. Three and a half hours later, the nurse came back to prepare me for another test. Another thirty minutes, she assured me, and the doctor will come to your room with all of the results. Two hours later, after calling the nurse multiple times, the doctor finally came back to inform me that all of the tests were negative and that it was likely something viral. I could be discharged and go home.

By the time I was discharged, I had been at the clinic for about six hours. I had become acquainted with the concept of "Peruvian time" through my experience with Peruvian restaurants, but it took on greater gravity in the context of their medical system. I was also struck by the gender disparity that I noticed--all of the doctors and nurses who worked with me were female, while all of the administrative workers and drivers I interacted with were male. In the United States, I generally notice a split between doctors and nurses, so I thought it was interesting that, in Perú, the split was between administrators and practitioners. All in all, while I wouldn't necessarily like to repeat my visit to a Peruvian clinic, I felt that my experience gave me insight into the workings of the Peruvian healthcare system.